Vixon's Retribution
by TheAuraManipulator
Summary: Vixon's checkered past was swept under the rug as he opened up shop for his new money-making scheme. He came to find out, however, that being a Pokémon psychologist was not as bad as he had thought.
1. Chapter One: One for the Money

**Chapter One: One for the Money**

The crowd roared in the packed confines of the warehouse. Men and women cheered, shoving their fists in the air as a Growlithe's leg snapped backwards. The Growlithe yipped and whimpered in pain, but his owner refused to give up. The man within the inner circle took his belt off, cracking it like a whip at the mangled canine. Tears streamed down the Growlithe's face as it turned its head toward its opponent.

Standing at the opposite end of the spray-painted ring was a Mightyena, nearly two times the size of the little Growlithe. With one leg broken and dangling at an awkward angle, the Growlithe hobbled over to the Mightyena. The Mightyena took its time to inspect the crowd that watched him fight. It's what the Mightyena lived for: the attention and the respect.

He turned his attention back over to the Growlithe, just a bit too late to see the Growlithe sink his teeth into his neck. The Mightyena howled as the crowd roared louder and louder, egging the two brawling Pokémon on. The Mightyena shook his body violently in an attempt to free himself from the Growlithe's grasp. Eventually, he managed to shake the Growlithe off, but not without injury. Blood flooded down the Mightyena's neck and he winced in pain. Mightyena's owner shouted profanities at the dog to get him to continue fighting, and the Mightyena loyally obeyed.

The two dogs' blood mixed within the ring as they rolled on the floor, both growling and snapping at each other with equal intensity. The Mightyena's grey fur turned a deep shade of red as the Growlithe used his three remaining useful paws to claw into the Mightyena's skin. With the sudden twist of advantage, the crowd that had bet on the Growlithe cheered with encouragement for the Growlithe to end it. But it wasn't that simple. The Mightyena found a golden opportunity. In a split-second movement, the Mightyena moved its paw to the Growlithe's face. Without hesitation, the Mightyena gouged the Growlithe's eyes out. Blood splattered everywhere as the Growlithe roared in pain. With Mightyena on top of the Growlithe, it began digging into the Growlithe's chest. Intestines and other organs spilled everywhere as the Growlithe rapidly bled to death.

The crowd cheered at the amazing and entertaining fight and exchanged the money that was bet. The Mightyena's owner returned the beaten up Pokémon without a word as the Growlithe's owner picked up the carcass with a shovel, carried it to the corner, and dumped it onto the pile of other dead Pokémon. No emotion was shown on the owner's face as he merged back into the crowd to watch the next fight.

Two individuals pushed up into the center ring, eager to fight. One was named Thomas. The other, Vixon. Both opponents were well-known within the PokéFighting community. Thomas had a track-record for being particularly ruthless to his opponent. Vixon, however, had something special. Latched around his ear was a wireless PokéNav accessory called the PokéChat. Vixon got it as a gift from a relative who worked for the Devon Corporation in Hoenn's Rustboro City. While many trainers had the PokéNav, only a select few had the PokéChat. With its limited supply and its insanely inflated cost, it was a true commodity. With it, any Pokémon's speech was clearly audible in English to its wearer. This allowed Vixon to communicate more effectively with the Pokémon he used in fights.

As the betting began, the two opponents released their Pokémon at the same time. In a bright flash of light, Thomas's Bagon formed with a devilish grin on its face. Vixon's eyes narrowed at the cocky Bagon as his Teddiursa appeared on the floor of the ring. The crowd all laughed and pointed at the small, teddy bear sitting on the concrete floor of the warehouse. The bets quickly became one-sided as onlookers became eager to see the stuffing pulled out of the tiny bear.

Ignoring the ridicule from the crowd, Vixon calmly said, "Teddiursa, aim low."

Teddiursa looked back at her owner and said, _"You got it, Boss."_ With that, the fight began.

The Teddiursa leapt for the Bagon, but the Bagon saw it coming. Just as he was about to close his jaws around her, the Teddiursa slammed down on the top of his head with her fist. The Bagon's razor-sharp teeth clamped shut on his tongue with so much force that a part of it was severed off. The limp end of his tongue fell to the concrete as his mouth filled with blood.

Everyone was astonished. Vixon told the Teddiursa to aim low, but she landed a head-shot. That's what was so special about Vixon's fighting strategies; no one ever knew what he really meant by his commands. The crowd was more-or-less silent now.

The Bagon began tearing up as blood pooled in his mouth and began to stream down his body like a river.

"What would you suggest, Teddiursa?" Vixon called out to her.

 _"He has small arms. They're useless. Let's go for the legs. Without them, he can't function."_ Teddiursa shouted, refusing to take her eyes off the Bagon.

"That sounds reasonable. Do your worst."

With a hint of helplessness in his eyes, Thomas shifts between looking at the Teddiursa and looking at Vixon rapidly. "You cocksuckers done with your tea party? How fuckin' fair is it to talk with your Pokémon here?" His gaze then shifted to his crying Bagon. "Bagon, I want you to grow some goddamn balls and tear that bear to shreds!"

The Bagon nodded slowly and found a way to push through its pain. As the two Pokémon approached each other, Thomas saw Vixon smirk as the Bagon jumped up and the Teddiursa slide across the concrete. As the Bagon was in midair, the Teddiursa latched on to his foot and began to gnaw it off the bone. In panic, the Bagon didn't stick the landing and it fell face-first onto the concrete. His nose snapped on impact and blood flooded out of his face. With the Bagon's arms being too short and his legs being mutilated, he had no means to get up. He squirmed and cried out in pain as the Teddiursa broke every bone she possibly could in the Bagon.

"Teddiursa, stop," Vixon calmly said.

Confusion was heard throughout the crowd as other fighters began to wonder why the Teddiursa wouldn't continue to mutilate the Bagon. When one has the advantage, one milks it to the last drop. But the Teddiursa backed away. She spit the Bagon's blood out of her mouth as she admires her work. Twitching on the floor, the Bagon waited for death.

 _"Should I?"_

Vixon nodded, "Finish him fast."

Teddiursa walked over to the Bagon, and slammed her fist into the space between the Bagon's head and neck. Its nerve was shocked and effectively stopped, shutting his brain down permanently. The crowd was so silent that they could hear the final breath from the Bagon. After a tense couple of seconds, the crowd abruptly began to cheer loudly for Vixon. Vixon smiled as he looked down at his Teddiursa. She looked back at him with a slightly smaller smile, but a smile nonetheless.

Through the crowd's cheers, only Vixon could barely hear Thomas scream, "You cheating sonofabitch! You killed my best fighter! Fuck you!" Thomas pulled something out from beneath his shirt. It seemed to have been tucked into the front of his pants. He held it firmly and pulled the trigger. The Teddiursa's brain splattered across the floor, joining the pool of the Bagon's blood. Then, Thomas turned it on Vixon and fired again. In shock, Vixon gripped his hand over his left shoulder where he was shot. Not thinking twice, Vixon turned around, pushed through the crowd, and ran for the back door of the warehouse. More shots rang out behind Vixon as he stumbled out into the night.

Vixon didn't know where his feet were taking him, but he let them guide his body. His brain was foggy and he could hear his heartbeat pound at his eardrums. He lifted his hand from the wound to see it caked in his blood. He quickly squeezed his hand back onto his shoulder and winced his pain.

He walked slowly down the center of the silent road as he searched for somewhere that could possibly save his life. As he searched, he began to hear faint sirens in the distance. At first, he was confused, but as the sirens grew louder, he realized what they were. He sprinted off the road and laid down onto the grass between two homes, effectively hiding himself. He cried in pain as he watched six police cars rush down the road. Presumably towards the warehouse. Once he thought the the coast was clear, he got up and continued into town.

Vixon doesn't remember how, but he ended up in front of the Lilycove Pokémon Center. He took one look at his arm and realized something. 'If I go in there and they treat my gunshot wound, they have to report it to the police. I'll be arrested for PokéFighting.' With his head hung low, he turned his back to the neon sign of the PokéCenter and walked away from help.

* * *

As rain began to fall on Lilycove, Vixon turned the key to his home. He stumbled inside and threw the door shut. Someone on the couch jumped in surprise and looked around the room in panic.

Vixon, on the verge of passing out, groaned, "Kara… help…"

The woman's eyes focused on her brother as she realized what was wrong. "Oh, my God, Vixon! What happened?!" she yelled as she sprinted over to him.

She turned her attention to the dining room table. She swiped everything off of it, shattering her plate from dinner that she didn't bother to clean up. Vixon, knowing what to do, stumbled over to the table and flopped onto it. His brain was no longer functioning and he began to fade.

When Vixon opened his eyes, he immediately looked over to his left shoulder. Laying on top of it was a reddened gauze wrap that seemed to need a change. He looked beyond his shoulder to see his sister passed out with her head resting on the table beside him. Her hands were covered in blood as she struggled to stay on the chair beside the table. Then, Vixon notice the pain. He clenched his teeth and hissed through them, having his back arch. Kara mumbled and raised her head, waking up to see her brother alive.

Instead of happiness, though, she expressed her anger. "What the fuck is wrong with you?!"

Vixon looked confused as he breathed through the pain. "What, Kara?"

Kara reached for some pills and a glass of water, giving Vixon two and forcing them down his throat with the water. Vixon choked, but managed to keep most of the water and the pills down.

Kara's fists slammed down onto the table as she said, "You're damn lucky that I'm a nurse."

Vixon chuckled, "Yeah, a _Pokémon_ nurse."

Kara stood from her chair and slapped him across his face, causing Vixon's head to whip back. "What the fuck, Kara?" Vixon yelled as he looked up at his sister.

"Who gives a shit what kind of nurse I am? I'm a nurse that saved your goddamn life!"

Vixon closed his eyes and let out a long breath.

"I watched the news, genius. I know you don't work at the department store, you liar!"

Vixon realized why she was mad. He kept his eyes firmly shut as he attempted to explain himself. "Look, it was just for the money. I had to do _something_ to get money."

Kara was enraged. "You fucking murder Pokémon! You make them kill each other!" She picked up the bullet that was lodged inside Vixon's shoulder and raises it to where he could see. "I just took this out of your fucking shoulder! I just saved a murderer's life! What the fuck does that make _me_?" Vixon opened his eyes enough to see the bloody bullet and his sister's tears streaming down her face.

There was a long pause as both Kara and Vixon refused to speak. Suddenly, Kara said, "I should've let you die. I should've let my brother bleed out."

Vixon began to cry as he realized how much he had hurt his sister. "Kara, I'm so sorry—"

"—Fuck being sorry for me! How many Pokémon have you killed? You should feel ashamed of yourself!"

Kara expected for Vixon to respond to what she had said, but he laid motionless on their bloody dining room table. She scoffed and said, "Once you heal, you're out of my house. You got it?"

Vixon nodded without another word.

* * *

Vixon stared at the television in his room as he sat, propped up in his bed. His eyes never moved as the anchor segued into the next news story.

"It's been a week since the tragic shootout in the warehouse at the south end of Lilycove. Today, we have the names of the twenty-four people that lost their lives…"

As the news anchor read off the names, Vixon forced himself to zone out. He never wanted to see the PokéFighters who died because of him.

Subconsciously, he whispered out loud to no one but himself. It was one sentence: "I didn't cheat."

He gripped the remote tightly and slammed his finger into the power button, forcing the news anchor to shut up. Just then, the door to his bedroom opened and Kara walked in. She held his lunch on a tray. Without a word, she placed the tray onto his stomach and began to turn to leave. As she did, she noticed two collapsed Poké Balls on his nightstand. She straightened herself up and faced Vixon once again.

"You don't even have a Trainer's License, do you?" Vixon shook his head. "How'd you buy the Poké Balls, then?"

With a dazed face, Vixon replied with, "Black market."

Unfazed, Kara continued. "How many did you kill?"

Vixon sighed, and whispered, "Too many to count."

A long pause enveloped the room in a toxic silence. Kara had to break it. "How many of yours have died?"

"Just one."

"Who?"

"My Teddiursa. She was shot to death after I was accused of cheating."

"Did you cheat?"

"I didn't cheat."

"To me, you cheated."

Vixon's head turned towards his sister. "What?"

"You lied to me. You said you worked at the department store. You promised your money was _real_ , that the store just paid you well. You said you were good at your job, that you worked hard. You cheated me by making me believe in your lies."

In a monotone voice, all Vixon could say was, "I didn't cheat."

A furious expression overtook Kara's face. "Pack your things. Get out of my house."

Vixon got up from his bed and groaned in pain as his shoulder was shifted slightly. It was not a wound that would easily heal. Vixon was beginning to believe that time itself couldn't heal a wound that deep. Kara watched as he began gathering things up and placing them in a duffel bag. He packed his clothes, a thin blanket, a jacket, a toothbrush, some soap, shampoo, and other miscellaneous items. He reached under his bed and pulled out a shoebox full of cash.

Kara scoffed and said, "As much as I hate seeing you walk away with so much blood money, I refuse to keep it in my house."

Vixon nodded and shoved it into his bag. Then, he approached his nightstand and reached for the two Poké Balls.

As his hand laid outstretched for them, Kara said, "Touch those, and die."

With his hand frozen in place, Vixon looked over to Kara with a confused look.

"If you touch those Pokémon again, I will kill you. You are a monster who has no right to ever see a Pokémon again. Leave them."

Vixon slowly retracted his working arm back to rest at his side. He kept his gaze on the two Poké Balls for as long as he could before reluctantly turning his back on them. He left his bedroom with Kara in tow, heading for the door. He opened it and stepped outside as Kara refused to come out with him.

"Vixon, I love you. But I will never forgive you for what you have done. Pokémon are precious. They are living, complex creatures, just like we are… Don't come back."

Vixon nodded and walked away into downtown Lilycove without ever looking back to his sister or his home.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

I dont normally do author's notes but I felt that it was necessary here. I want to begin by saying that I am so sorry that I have been inactive for over half a year. My other story, _The Project Integration Saga_ will continue, I promise. I just need a bit more time to write it out. On a more positive note, this is my new story! I hope you all enjoyed it! Don't expect frequent uploads because I spend weeks on each chapter. Let me know what you think!

~TheAuraManipulator


	2. Chapter Two: Lost

**Chapter Two: Lost**

Vixon walked aimlessly throughout the city. Lilycove is especially beautiful during the autumn when the flora phase into brilliant hues of yellow and orange. Vixon tended to spend most of his time admiring the town that he lived in. A few passersby would hold out crumpled up Poké for him to take, but he refused every time. He assumed that he had enough money left over from his fights. Many days were spent trying to avoid people like these. Some were successful trainers, others were businessmen and women on their way to work, others were simple fathers and mothers taking a stroll in the calm autumn breeze. But Vixon never liked to make conversation, or want to be noticed at all. Vixon was never much of a sociable person. He often felt like there wasn't much to say when conversing with other people. He found that the brain can strike up a conversation with itself, reasoning situations out and synthesizing ideas on its own.

One late afternoon, as the sun was setting and the breeze billowed, Vixon scouted the outskirts of town to find a place to sleep. Once he found a flat spot under a tree, he threw his duffel bag to the ground a collapsed onto it. His head was throbbing with a headache and his bones screamed at him to stop moving. With minimal effort, he situated himself to where his bag acted as a pillow. With a long sigh, he stared up at the stars which occasionally peaked out through the tree branches. It had been weeks since he had been kicked out of his home by his older sister, and since then his mind replayed various PokéFights that he had experienced in the past. The compilation of whirring memories within his mind appeared to him like a highlight reel. In the past, Vixon had viewed these memories to reminisce about his accomplishments. As he laid alone and under a tree, however, he didn't know what to think. He sighed again, raising his working arm so his hand could rub his eyes. He was exhausted, spent from the days and days of mindlessly roaming his hometown. He didn't know where to go. He didn't even know where he _could_ go. Being underneath that tree seemed to be sufficient enough.

As he began to drift off to sleep, a dark-feathered Pokémon caught sight of him while roosting in a nearby tree. The bird flew down to land by Vixon but kept its distance. It slowly approached Vixon with an inquisitive expression. Vixon heard the rustling of the nearby grass, which caused him to jolt up from his bed. The Pokémon jumped, obviously startled, but was just too curious of the human to fly away. Vixon's eyes darted around until he found the particularly large Murkrow standing a few feet away from him. It immediately reminded him of one of his Pokémon. It was a Murkrow with a scar above its eye and a missing toe. The longer he looked at the wary bird, the more his eyes widened.

Vixon, with a rather shaky voice, said, "Murkrow, is that you?"

The Murkrow's body immediately tensed up. It realized that this human was indeed its owner. It hated Pokémon fights and hated its trainer more. The rigorous training and fights that Vixon forced the Murkrow into was torture.

" _Vixon, you are no longer my master. I don't even think that you realize that what you were doing was wrong."_

Vixon stared at the bird, unfazed, and said, "I'm sorry."

The Murkrow stepped back and raised its wings. " _No, you're not."_

Vixon lowered his head as the Murkrow began to flap its wings. "Please don't leave, Murkrow."

As the Murkrow flew away into the wilderness of Route 121, it said, " _Rot in hell, fucker."_ Vixon never recalled when or even if he fell asleep that night.

* * *

Sometime later, a bit after his shoulder healed, Vixon's money reserves depleted, leaving him with an empty shoebox, and no new shoes to show for it. The ones he had on were forming holes in the front. His normally clean face was grimy as he sported a wild beard. His brown hair became rather greasy and shown with brilliance in the summer sun. His clothes were discolored and smelly, even to Vixon, who had almost grown used to the odor of old stockpiled sweat. He shuffled his feet as he entered an alleyway behind a library. With nowhere else to go, he leaned on the wall and slowly slid down to the ground. He lugged off his duffel bag and placed his head onto his knees as he folded into a fetal position. He knew that he was happier when he was a fighter than when he was a runner. That's all Vixon believed he was doing: running from the world.

As his mind wandered, with nowhere to go but to bounce around within his own brain, another figure turned the corner into the alleyway. Vixon turned and saw a disheveled woman walking slowly towards him. She had black, matted hair and a tattered sweatshirt on that said, 'rainbows.' The rainbow on her sweatshirt was sun-bleached almost completely white, nullifying its vivacity. Vixon softly chuckled to himself as he continued to think. 'All good things must fade eventually.' As he compulsively repeated those words within his mind, the woman found a spot beside him on the ground. They stared at each other in complete silence. They didn't need to speak; they were both reading into each other's struggles.

"You don't look like a bad dude," said the woman out of nowhere.

Vixon jumped a bit in response to her surprisingly loud voice and replied with, "I wish that were true."

"What did you do?" She eagerly asked him.

He sighed as he stared down at a beetle scuttling by his feet. "I guess I cheated."

She raised one eyebrow in confusion as she leaned ever so slightly closer to Vixon. She said, "What did you cheat at?"

Vixon looked up into the eyes of this stranger, his gaze dancing between her eyes as if searching for the answer. "I don't know."

"What does that mean?"

Vixon looked back down at the ground and never answered. Instead, he asked, "What's your name?"

She gave a wide smile and said, "My name is Vanessa, but the homeless folks call me Megaphone."

Vixon chuckled and replied with, "My name is Vixon. It's great to meet you." He held out his hand and she immediately shook it. Vixon noticed that her hands were far cleaner than his own. He stared down at his hand and then back to Vanessa's, which she was wiping on her bleached shirt.

"It seems as though you're new to this whole 'homeless' business, huh?" she said with a dry laugh.

"I guess you could say that."

"Well, I guess I do have a slight advantage." She said as she reached for her waistband.

Vixon's mind flashed back to Thomas pulling his gun out and with one, swift motion, Vixon pulled his gun out from his bag and stuck it to Vanessa's head. She inhaled sharply, like a desperate gasp for depleting air, and sat completely still.

"Don't reach," Vixon firmly said.

Vanessa began shaking in fright as she said, "Oh my God, please don't shoot me! I was reaching for a Poké Ball."

Vixon's vision became blurry. He lowered his gun and Vanessa slowly exhaled and shut her eyes, feeling a flood of relief.

Vixon looked down at the pistol in his hands and began to weep silently to himself. He softly said, "I'm sorry, Vanessa." Before she could respond, Vixon was up off the ground and around the corner.

Vanessa sat there in utter shock as she rested her head on the outer wall of the library, huffing and puffing, trying to regain her breathing.

* * *

For Vixon, the library became a common place for him to hang out. Of course, not inside the building, but the alleyway behind it. Occasionally, library volunteers would leave piles of books, most of which were too destroyed to use, for garbage collection. Vixon would funnel through those books to see if he wanted to read any. Reading is what he devoted most of his time to. It became a sort of compulsion to read. He soon came to discover that he was reading far too fast for the supply of good books to keep up with, so he resorted to a fallback book: one that he didn't particularly want to read, but it was big enough to allow for more books to stockpile. It was a thick, leather-bound journal of psychology.

As he got further into the book, he began to lose interest in the other ones. Page after page, he became more enamored by it, occasionally forgetting to eat or sleep. It took him a week of non-stop reading to finish the journal, but he didn't feel that it was enough. He flipped the pages from 2,385 to 1 and started over. Again and again, this went on, as autumn turned to winter.

Being a port city, the winters in Lilycove were harsh. In the early weeks, Vixon paid the cold no mind as he absorbed the words into his brain. As it neared January, however, Vixon began to feel the physical toll that winter had to offer. With no food and no motivation, Vixon spent his time huddled between a garbage can and the concrete steps leading into the library. He doesn't remember much during those weeks. The only thing he remembers is that he left off on page 486.

One early morning was especially cold, reaching temperatures far below freezing. Vixon shivered in his spot as he curled up, clutching at his light jacket for some sense of warmth. He was starving at this point, having not eaten in five days. He focused on his breathing, as this was what he spent a lot of his time doing anyway. He watched beyond the garbage can as thick slurries of snow stacked up on the streets. His teeth began chattering, being almost louder than the howl of the winter wind. As he reached for the book in his bag, he felt as if his life was drifting out to sea. His body became numb and frostbitten. His breathing slowed as he closed his eyes, accepting the fact that he would die.

Strolling nonchalantly down that very street, however, was a woman with a rainbow on her sweatshirt and three Poké Balls strapped to her waist.

* * *

The garbage can was alight with a violent crackle here and there. Vixon's eyes fluttered open and they immediately fell upon a Torchic sitting beside him with its head cocked to the side. The curious little chicken stared at Vixon as if it were waiting for him to do something. He squinted, trying to make sense of how he was not dead. From behind the burning trash can, Vanessa smiled at Vixon. His eyes shot wide open with shock.

"Vanessa?! How did you save me?"

She shrugged her shoulders, "I dunno, Chip lit the trash can up and now we're warm. The power of fire!" She threw her arms in the air aggressively to display such power. This elicited a slight chuckle under Vixon's breath: it was the first time he had laughed in a long time.

"Well, thanks," Vixon said.

"Yeah, no problem," she chuckled, "It seems like you're gonna need my help out here."

"I uh…" Vixon paused. He was mostly a quiet, keep-to-himself kind of guy, but he knew that being homeless gave no awards for being alone as well. "I guess so, huh?" He said with little emotion.

"After you thaw out, we need to get you loosened up a little bit."

They sat the rest of the early morning in silence as Chip, the fun-loving Torchic, skipped around the blazing garbage can.

Although Vixon couldn't remember why a number kept jumping around in his mind: 486.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

For this story, I have decided that I will use some author's notes but I will try to keep them brief. I mainly just want to know what you guys think about this new story. I am usually not one to ask like this, but please do leave me some comments. I want to hear what you all have to say!

Thank you for reading!

~TheAuraManipulator


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